All Hallow's Day
by Verity Bracken
Summary: On 1 November 1981, Remus is returning home from a disastrous mission. He's hoping he can reconcile with Sirius after the terrible argument they had last time they were together. But nothing can prepare him for what happened the night before and his life is about to change forever. One fairly explicit slash scene, some swearing.
1. Chapter 1

Perhaps he should have noticed something was going on. He is too tired to apparate without danger of splinching after last night in the New Forest, doesn't have money for the Knight Bus. Besides, Dumbledore told him to keep his head down. There are suspicions the Bus is being used to monitor the movements of wizards. Just after nine in the morning he manages to hitch a ride with a Muggle lorry driver heading back to London.

As he sits slumped, half asleep, beside the driver up in the cab of the truck he faintly hears a report on the radio of strange astral activity over parts of England. Astronomers seem baffled, can't tell if it was a meteor shower.

He is too exhausted to do more than mutter reassurances to the driver's occasional comments of 'Alright, mate?' or 'You don't half look done in' or 'What happened to that face of yours?' His head buzzes uncomfortably with the vibration of the lorry as he leans against the window, but can't summon up the energy to move.

As he drifts half in and out of fitful sleep, he makes a decision that has been forming in his mind since he watched Sirius storm out of their flat a month before – he doesn't care what Dumbledore has warned him, he is going to tell Sirius exactly where he has been going over these past months, what he was trying to do, get rid for once and for all of the suspicion between them.

And then they are going to go to bed and love each other properly, just like it was before they started fighting. The memory of the last time they had sex makes him feel ill. After a terrible argument, as Sirius tried to find out where he was going, the bitter accusations he threw, the scorn caused by his doubts. Then rough kisses, cutting his lip on Sirius's teeth as their mouths knocked against each other, holding Sirius over the table, pushing his head down with one hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck amidst the crumbs and papers scattered everywhere, yanking his jeans down with the other hand and thrusting inside him, just a gob of spit to ease his way, as Sirius jerked himself off. After, he saw red marks on Sirius's hips from where his fingers had grabbed him, dug in.

He can't use the excuse that the full moon was approaching. He's always been able to mostly quash that aspect of himself, perhaps been just a little more forceful, a little more abandoned before the moon, but never like that. He hopes that wasn't their last time. Immediately after, Sirius pulled his jeans up, threw on his jacket and slammed out of the flat, not even looking back at him. Still hadn't come back before he had to leave for the New Forest.

Perhaps he should have paid more attention to the cluster of people in robes in that village they drove through just before the M25 around midday. Three witches and two wizards hugging gleefully in the street, calling out greetings to passers-by, including Muggles. He doesn't respond to the lorry driver's comments about loonies and student pranks as they drive past them. He doesn't want to give away that he knows anything about such people. He too cannot understand why they are out in public so blatantly, given the danger of Voldemort's followers seeing them.

The lorry driver is entering the outskirts of London now, says he can drop him near King's Cross if he can find a place to pull over on the Euston Road. He can walk to their flat from there. He hopes Sirius will be home. He will sit there waiting, won't leave, won't even get the sleep he so urgently needs until Sirius has come back and they can talk this out.

If Sirius won't listen or throws him out, then perhaps he can go and stay with them at the Hollow for a while, if only Sirius will let him through the Fidelius charm to find the cottage. He hasn't seen the baby properly for such a long time, didn't want to bring the stench of his missions to their little home.

Last time he visited was six weeks ago, before he got caught up in this latest futile task Dumbledore had charged him with. He had gone to stay with them with Sirius over a weekend. Peter hadn't come, had muttered something about being busy, which he could see James was doing his best not to be hurt by. It was a slight relief. Peter has been a little chilly towards him recently, as if some of Sirius's mistrust might be rubbing off on him. He knows Sirius doesn't care, can take or leave Peter to an extent, but always happily tolerates him because James enjoys his acolyte's company so much.

Harry as always held his fat little arms out to Sirius to be picked up as soon as he saw him, calling 'Pa' from his playmat where he sat up surrounded by toys, many given to him by Sirius – and, by extension, himself, though Sirius is always the one who chooses and pays for them. He wouldn't have guessed before that this wild boy would have become so devoted to a baby, but there's no denying the strength of the bond between Sirius and Harry.

James was a little low that weekend, but played it down. He can understand how frustrated he must be, a boy, a man like him, always at the centre of things, now exiled and largely housebound, unable to rejoin the struggle. He was still able to joke, once Sirius had jollied him out of his mood a little, laughing that Harry's name for Sirius would cast doubt on his own paternity if only his godfather wasn't so bent. He even came up with yet another new nickname for Sirius – the Fairy Dogfather – when Lily was out of the room.

Sirius's focus on James that weekend allowed him to spend more time playing with Harry, who even started calling him 'Moo'. He's walking now, and loves flying around on that little toy broom Sirius sent him for his birthday. He supposes the boy has forgotten his name now, forgotten him altogether after such a long absence. Six weeks is a long time in the life of a child only fifteen months old.

*** A few more chapters to come! Thanks for reading this far. As always, reviews are like Sirius's cheekbones and Remus's smile… ***


	2. Chapter 2

Perhaps he should have seen that something was strange during his walk home after the lorry driver dropped him off near King's Cross. The driver stopped at the bottom of Pentonville Road, a road that looks up towards a part of London that is out of bounds as far as Sirius is concerned, as it approaches the home he has rejected and left behind forever.

He walks down from the station, so familiar from school days, through the quiet back streets of Bloomsbury, and again sees small clusters of people in familiar robes, some bent over copies of the _Prophet_ , others clapping each other on the back, shaking hands.

It sends a chill down his spine, to see them like this, risking attention from Death Eaters and the thug-like Snatchers. He keeps his head down.

He is reminded of Stalin's Russia, which he read about in one of his mother's Muggle library books, where no one spoke freely or trusted their neighbours for fear of betrayal. These witches and wizards, meeting so overtly, are surely going to draw unwelcome attention, cause a new spate of night-raids and disappearances. But he can't risk his undercover work for the Order by stopping to warn them.

He cuts through the Brunswick centre, some of its shops putting up Christmas decorations now that Halloween is over, blaring out old Christmas novelty songs from speakers. He wonders if James got a photo of Harry wearing that little antler headband last night. Sirius had found it in a shop already selling Christmas gimmicks and was planning to take it to Godric's Hollow to surprise them yesterday.

The thought of Halloween reminds him of Sirius's birthday, the day after tomorrow. He is going to do it properly. A cake with twenty-two candles, a bottle of that mead Sirius likes, some sort of present, if he can find the inspiration – Sirius is far better at presents. He has a little of his own money left at home and he's willing to spend it all on the day. And bed, they can spend most of the day in bed, and he will lavish as much love and attention on Sirius as he can to make up for the neglect and hurt he has caused.

Then, if Sirius can spare the time from his Order work, they can go to the Hollow together, spend some real time with the family, see if they can help assuage James's feelings of helplessness, the pressure on Lily to act as if this is normal. Maybe they should even consider finding their own cottage there, near the Potters.

He can get to know the baby again. He thinks of the smell of the child, the warm, honeyish, milky baby smell his hair and skin give off, as the boy burrows his head under his chin, against his heart. He knows he won't become a father now, the chances are somewhat slim for a queer lycanthrope, but James and Lily are generous enough to allow this odd couple to be part of this child's life. It's hard to imagine it any other way, with James and Sirius so like brothers.

There may be more babies to come. Both James and Lily had mentioned their hopes for a large family – James the only child, wanting Harry to be surrounded by siblings, Lily hurt by the estrangement from her own sister. Is it too risky to think that far ahead in such times?

Perhaps he should have thought more about the strange behaviour of Greyback and his pack. As he nears the flat, passing the university buildings, through the run-down St Giles district, he wonders idly about what could have made them so terrified.

Greyback received an owl in the small hours of the morning, and within minutes he and the others had cleared out of their forest camp. When he tried to find out what was happening, the leader simply snarled 'piss off home, boy, if you know what's good for you'. Something in the letter made them panic, stop kicking him to the ground, taunting him as he lay curled at their feet. Perhaps Voldemort was at last, inevitably, turning on his despised allies. He was so relieved to have a reason to leave he didn't question further. Greyback was in a desperate mood, he could easily have attacked a young werewolf he didn't trust.

He glances at his hands again as he turns on to Phoenix Street. Blood under the fingernails. He shudders at the thought of what had been required of him during the full moon the night before last, the other werewolves' idea of initiation into their pack, as Dumbledore had hoped for. More likely they were just toying with him, forcing him to betray himself, a laugh at his expense. Not for the first time, he is grateful he can't remember the transformations. He hopes it's his own blood.

He unlocks the outside door to their building, climbs the stairs and takes a deep breath before the door of their flat. Please let Sirius be home. Please let him listen. Please.

*** Thanks for reading this far. What's Remus going to find when he gets home? Reviews keep me going, like a Patronus when I'm cornered by Dementors… ***


	3. Chapter 3

He opens the door, doesn't stop to hang up his coat in the small hallway, and steps into the sitting room.

Sirius is there.

He is sitting on the sofa.

He is holding a baby on his lap. Harry.

He is giving Harry a bottle of milk.

He is crying.

Remus stands there, taking in these things slowly. He can't speak. He can't process why this can be happening, why the baby is here, in their flat, instead of safely at home, in hiding with his parents.

Sirius looks up at him, tears coursing down his face, crying silently as his body shakes with sobs, face twisted into a voiceless howl.

He looks back, helplessly. At last he finds his own voice. 'Sirius. Pad? What…?' He takes three quick steps and crouches down at Sirius's feet, arms around his legs, taking care not to squash the baby.

Sirius does not shake him off. That's something. 'He killed them. He fucking killed them,' he croaks.

It feels as if there has been an earthquake. Sirius can only mean James and Lily. But he must be wrong. Voldemort was after Harry. If James and Lily are dead, how can Harry have survived?

The baby has fallen asleep. He looks around, sees the little bassinet from Godric's Hollow, the one kept in the sitting room downstairs. Sirius must have brought it. Very gently, he takes the baby from Sirius's arms and places him in the basket, covers him with a little blanket, the one Lily knitted while she was pregnant. Only then does he notice the jagged mark on his forehead.

'What happened to Harry?' he whispers, not wanting to wake the baby. 'Sirius? Tell me. What's happened?'

Sirius is now sitting with his head buried in his hands, long black hair falling in a veil over them, Harry's bottle on the floor at his feet. He has stopped crying. Something has calmed him for the moment. He pulls himself to his feet and takes Remus's hand and leads him into the bedroom next door. He sits hunched at the foot of the unmade bed, where he can still see the bassinet. Remus sits beside him. He leaves a small gap between them, not sure where he stands with Sirius.

And Sirius tells him. About how he went to see Peter yesterday, to ask if he'd like to go with him to surprise the Potters for Halloween. How he had persuaded – or thought he had had to persuade – Peter to become secret keeper for the cottage at Godric's Hollow just days before. How it had seemed like such a clever idea. How Peter's deserted flat made him suspicious, made him go directly to the Hollow. How he had seen the Potter's front door hanging on its hinges.

He has to stop and take deep breaths for a while before he can tell Remus what happened next. How he found James lying dead on the floor in the hallway, Lily upstairs in front of Harry's cot, the baby crying with a bleeding cut on his head, the nursery blasted apart, stars visible through the hole where the roof had been, the moon on its first waning night. How Voldemort was nowhere to be found. How Hagrid had turned up soon after, saying Dumbledore had sent him to collect Harry. How they had argued. How he had told Hagrid that _he_ was taking the baby, that James and Lily had wanted him to if anything happened to them, had made him guardian, that the old bastard could climb down from his ivory tower and come to Phoenix Street to have it out with him if he had anything to say about it.

How he was so, so wrong. How he knows Peter was the traitor. How it is all Sirius's fault for trusting the wrong person, for not trusting the right one.

He turns and takes Sirius in his arms. Sirius cries hard again into his chest, as he tries to absorb what he has been told. None of it makes sense, that Voldemort would leave without killing Harry. But Harry is still alive. And James and Lily are dead.

As Sirius's sobs die down, he holds him at the shoulders and tells him quickly, quietly, where he had been all those times over the past year. How Dumbledore had sent him to search out Greyback and the rest of them in the New Forest den where they had camped. How he was to try to win them over to their side, make assurances of easing the anti-werewolf laws once Voldemort was toppled from power. How it was too late, their loyalties already bound up with Voldemort who allowed them such freedom to indulge their desire for human blood. How they had forced Remus to stay and transform with them the previous night. How he had never betrayed the Order. Never betrayed James and Lily. Never betrayed Sirius.

After listening in silence, Sirius says nothing. Instead he lies down and sleeps, exhausted. He must have been up all night too. Remus curls behind him, resting his forehead between Sirius's shoulder blades while he can't be shrugged off. He can't sleep. His head spins with everything he must take in. James. Lily. Peter. Harry. Oh god, they have a child now, if Sirius will let him do this. A child with a werewolf – impossible. But it must be possible. He will find a way to make it possible.

*** I couldn't do it in the end, couldn't send Sirius to Azkaban – that's JKR's job. Let's see how this works out. Reviews are miniature toy brooms and Honeyduke's chocolate as always. ***


	4. Chapter 4

It is more two hours before he hears the soft sounds of the baby waking. It's after four in the afternoon, the sky already starting to darken. Harry will be hungry, he doesn't know when he was last fed a proper meal apart from that bottle. He gets up, pulling the quilt over Sirius, and picks up Harry before he can begin to cry. Before either of them can begin to cry.

The baby's querulous 'Mama?' makes him falter, but he holds Harry on his hip in the kitchen and starts to learn the new task of making food one-handed. A soft-boiled egg, strips of buttered toast his mother called soldiers, cut a little clumsily, slices of apple for after.

There is no highchair, so he sits at the table that forms the boundary between the kitchen and sitting room with the baby on his lap, helping him with his little tea, absentmindedly eating the chewed bits of eggy toast and apple Harry drops. The little boy is more subdued than usual, but at least has an appetite. The distraction of the meal helps him avoid thinking about what happened on this table last time he was home.

At the sound of a throat clearing from the bedroom door he looks up to see Sirius watching him. Sirius is about to say something, about bringing up the child alone, he expects, how things are finished between them. But Sirius doesn't get the chance to speak. They are both startled by a knock on the door.

Sirius goes to open it and silently ushers their old headmaster into the sitting room. Dumbledore looks around the room, always rather untidy despite Remus's best efforts, but mostly clean, at Sirius standing in the centre, at Remus, at the baby on his lap, at the photograph of them with James and Lily at their wedding on the table beside the armchair, so happy, the little photo of newborn Harry beside it. Sirius does not offer him a seat.

There is no trace of the familiar twinkle in the old man's eyes today. He is solemn, almost stern. 'I think you must know why I'm here, Mr Black,' he says quietly.

Sirius sticks his chin out a little. He is not going to make this easy. 'Nope. No idea.'

'I wish first to offer my deepest condolences at the loss of your very dear friends. Their deaths have shaken us at Hogwarts, deeply,' the professor continues. 'And to bring you up to date with events of which you may not be aware. Voldemort has vanished, vanquished, it seems, for now. You may, like many, have been baffled as to why he did not manage to kill the child?'  
As Dumbledore explains Lily's sacrifice and the charm it created, Sirius sinks on to the sofa again. Remus sits silently at the table, listening, occasionally distracted by Harry wriggling on his lap. Voldemort is gone. It explains the happy clusters of witches and wizards he saw that morning, the werewolves' sudden fear.

'What about Pettigrew?' Sirius asks, bitterness seeping out of every pore. 'I'll find him. I know some of the places he holes up in.'

'Ah,' Dumbledore says. 'He too is dead. Benjamin Fenwick confronted him. Alas, poor Benjamin. Mr Pettigrew appears to have gained powers we did not understand he possessed. Powers he can only have gained under Voldemort's tutelage. I am very sorry to have to report that he attacked our dear friend Benjamin with a curse, the force of which blew him quite apart. The strength of the curse was so great it hit Mr Pettigrew as well. He may not have been in full control of a curse of that magnitude. All that remains of him is one finger. It occurred in a street full of Muggles. I have my information from a member of the Obliviator Squad, who were able to question some of the witnesses before altering their memories. The story that will be disseminated is that it was an explosion from a gas pipe in the street. An unfortunate accident.'

'But now,' Dumbledore presses on, looking sharply over his half-moon glasses at Sirius, who has barely reacted to the news of Peter's death. Peter must have been dead to him the minute he was revealed as the traitor. 'You must let me take the boy. I understand from our mutual friend Hagrid that you believe you can bring him up yourself, that you are even entitled to do so. But I must explain to you that this cannot be. His place is with family, with blood relatives of his mother's. Only there can he be protected, only there can his mother's charm take effect.'

'Bullshit,' bursts out of Sirius, standing again, crossing the floor to the headmaster. 'James and Lily wanted him to come here. You know that. We can protect him better than Muggles who didn't even want to know Lily, who haven't even acknowledged that Harry exists.'

Dumbledore shakes his head, smiling silently, mirthlessly to himself. 'I know you believe that, dear boy.' Remus fears that Sirius will hit the old man for patronising him in this way. But Sirius holds himself tall, together. 'Yes. I know it. If Voldemort's gone, there's no danger. We will look after him.'

'Mr Black, Voldemort may well come back one day, in fact, is certain to, and the child will need all his mother's protection then. Besides, you are a young man. Apart from the very urgent need for Harry to live with his blood relatives, his aunt is herself a mother. She has a child. Experience. You know nothing about caring for a baby. Nor,' Dumbledore glances briefly at Remus, 'does Mr Lupin here.'

'James and Lily didn't have a clue about babies either before they had Harry,' he interrupts, speaking for the first time since their former headmaster entered the room.

Sirius nods. 'That's right. They didn't know anything. But they learnt. And I've learnt. I know what he likes to eat – so does Remus,' he says, gesturing at the demolished remains of Harry's tea. 'I know the songs he likes at bedtime. I know how to dress him. I know how to change his nappy. I even know what type of cream he needs on his bum to stop him getting a rash.'

'Jiggers' Best Balm,' Remus echoes quietly, before he realises he has spoken. Sirius looks at him, and for just a moment a short bark of laughter escapes him.

'Jiggers' Best fucking Balm,' Sirius spits out. 'So, as you see, Professor, we've had fifteen months to learn about babies. We may not have been there every minute, but we know him better than anyone except his parents.' He crosses to the table and takes the baby from Remus, ignoring the crumbs and scraps of egg on Harry's fingers and face. Remus gets up and stands beside Sirius. It has not escaped him that Sirius used a plural pronoun.

Dumbledore looks closely at them both. 'Ah. Such determination. But there is one, not insignificant issue you have not taken into account.' He inclines his head to Remus. 'The fact that one of you is a werewolf? That he will be a grave danger to a child?'

Remus is staggered, nearly gasps. That Dumbledore – Dumbledore, his great defender, the one who made it possible to go to school with other children, who always treated him as an equal, not a monster – could use this against him. It is like a blow to the stomach. It is devastating. But it is true. There is no point defending himself.

*** Thanks for reading so far. Can Sirius and Remus persuade Dumbledore? Last chapter coming up. Please review if you have time – reviews are like Jiggers' Best Balm on nappy rash. ***


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius steps forward, Harry on his hip, swaying a little with the force of the movement. 'Don't you fucking dare use that as an excuse, old man.' His voice is shaking. He points at Dumbledore, nearly jabbing him in the chest. 'You don't get to do that. We can… we will find a way. We have friends, maybe one of them can take once a month for the night. Frank and Alice have a baby too, they'll help, I'm sure.' And with a long shuddering sigh he turns away at last from Dumbledore for the first time since their former headmaster entered the room, and wraps his spare arm around Remus's neck, Harry nestled between them.

Remus tries very hard not to cry in front of Dumbledore, just now when they both need to be strong for Harry. He takes a few faltering breaths into Sirius's hair and then looks over his shoulder at Dumbledore. The professor seems a little smaller, exhausted also by the last night's events. His cruel words can be forgiven. They have all been through so much in the last hours.

'Please, Professor,' Remus says, quietly. 'Please sit down.' He separates from Sirius and Harry to guide the old man to the sofa, then goes to the kitchen to make tea. He has no idea whether Dumbledore drinks tea, but this is what his mother would have done to defuse such a situation.

Dumbledore accepts some tea, in the least-chipped cup Remus can find. Sitting on a sofa, he appears strangely stripped of power, with no lectern or desk before him to bestow authority. There are no house points to be awarded here.

At last he looks up at Sirius, still standing holding Harry in the middle of the room, the baby tugging on his hair with tiny fingers, his godfather looking anywhere now but at their guest on the sofa, disarmed by the mundane realities of cups of tea. 'So that is your final word, Mr Black? You are determined to keep this child, to bring him up alone?'

Sirius's anger has vanished, but a little scorn remains. 'Professor, I don't think you were listening. I'm not alone. Remus and I will bring up Harry together. You know what we are to each other. You do know.'

Remus thanks any deity he can remember in this moment. For Sirius not losing faith in him. For wanting him there. He looks over to Dumbledore, to see the effect of this admission. The professor does not appear to be surprised. 'I do know. I truly do. I think perhaps you yourself do not understand…' but stops himself from completing his sentence. 'A relationship such as yours, however, is still frowned upon by many. And many, wizards and Muggles alike, believe a baby should only be brought up in a family where the parents are married, a mother and a father.'

A laugh bursts from Sirius. 'Well, that's the easiest bit, isn't it? Remus?' He turns to face Remus, who is still hovering with the teapot. He laughs again, nervously, his grey eyes filled with tears, his voice shaking. 'Remus John Lupin. Wizard. Werewolf. Rare and beautiful and modest man, maker of terrible spaghetti, lover of chocolate and my own sorry self. Will you marry me, if we can ever find someone to marry a couple of queers like us? Will you be mother and father to Harry with me? Will you help me protect him from Death Eaters and Dursleys alike? Will you forgive me for ever doubting you?' He hitches Harry a little higher on his hip, and dashes away a tear with his free hand, then holds it out to Remus. 'I'd go on one knee, but I don't want to drop the baby.' A joke to reduce the tension.

***Just a short one today… What's Remus going to say? Please review and let me know what you think of this – reviews are a cup of tea made by Remus's own fair hand. ***


	6. Chapter 6

*** Last chapter for this one, dear readers. Hope you enjoy it. If you liked this story, have a look at my other HP fics in my profile. And please review if you have time! ***

Remus can't breathe. Only hours before he was certain he would be banished forever from Sirius's life. Only hours before the world had come to an end, his closest friends murdered, another friend lost to them for ever.

He bends slowly, puts the teapot down on the floor, and steps once, twice to Sirius, takes the hand he is holding out to him, takes Harry's small hand in the other. He is more circumspect, less lavish with words than Sirius, but wants to do justice to this moment. Even if they can't actually marry, the thought of Sirius wanting him, knowing he hasn't ruined everything, is overwhelming.

'Yes. Yes, Sirius Black. Wizard. Disgraced scion of the Noble House of Black. Maker of even worse steak and kidney pie, marauder of chocolate. My bright star. My black dog. Yes, please. If you can forgive me for not confiding in you, I will marry you and stay with you, and we'll make a home for Harry together.' Tears fall down his own cheeks now, the first time he has cried in years. The tears are for James. For Lily. Even for Peter. For the orphaned baby they are going to love and cherish as their own. For the beauty of the man standing in front of him, the man who has so little left, but who has given him everything.

'Professor.' He turns to Dumbledore, watching them in silence from the sofa. 'I know you told me not to say where I was going for you. But I've told Sirius now. All those secrets and lies. They only led to trouble and pain. I'm not going to lie to the person I love the most in the world. I can't take it any more. It nearly broke us.'

The old man gives a nod of acceptance. 'Dear boys,' he says at last. 'Oh, my dear, dear boys. Can you ever forgive me?' His eyes are brighter than ever, not with the accustomed twinkle of amusement, but glinting this time with tears. A drop falls down his cheek, vanishing into the wrinkles running beside that long, broken nose. Remus looks hard at Sirius, willing him to agree.

Sirius considers Dumbledore for a moment, and then shakes his hair back, an accustomed gesture of capitulation. 'Ok,' he responds, his voice husky. 'I'm sorry about what I said to you, Professor. But you must know Harry is better off with us than them.'

'I'm afraid I do see that,' Dumbledore acknowledges. 'It will not be as easy to protect him once Voldemort has regathered his strength and followers, whenever that may be. But we can start by improving the protections on these premises. The Fidelius Charm. I can be secret keeper, if you will have me.'

Sirius smiles slightly. 'Thank you, Professor.' Even he cannot deny the power behind a vow made by Dumbledore.

Remus takes Harry so that Sirius and Dumbledore can perform the ritual, make plans. He could put Harry down to toddle about the flat, as his future is decided for him, but doesn't want to let him out of reach yet. He changes his nappy on an old sheet on the floor, after finding a few spares in a bag Sirius must have packed in a rush, the disposable kind Lily disapproves – disapproved – of, but kept a packet for emergencies.

He thinks about the things the baby will need, whether they can salvage some remnants from the little house at Godric's Hollow. He'll need clothes, more nappies, toys, books. Jiggers' Best fucking Balm. Tomorrow he'll go to Diagon Alley and get some more from Slug and Jiggers. Tomorrow they'll have to start thinking about funerals, telling friends. Tomorrow they can start dealing with the devastation of Voldemort's ambitions. But, for today, dinner, a bath and an early night for them all will do.

*** Thanks for reading. Hope you can forgive my meddling with the original plot. I was going to write about Remus coming back home and finding that everyone he loved had been taken from him, but just couldn't in the end – JKR is made of much sterner stuff than I am. So, here's a cheesy happy ending for my darlings. Please review – reviews are like the prospect of a gorgeous Wolfstar wedding to attend in my best robes. ***


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